


We Will Be Okay

by spiderstyles



Category: Avengers: Endgame - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Far From Home, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Europe, F/M, Grief, My predictions for Far From Home, Pain, Violence, michelle is peters center, mysterio gets whats coming to him, or really, peter goes berserk, quentin beck - Freeform, what i would like to happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 08:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19169329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiderstyles/pseuds/spiderstyles
Summary: Peter goes Berserk at the Carnival





	We Will Be Okay

Peter smells like fire.

Ash is raining down around him and people are crying as the carnival goes up in blazes.

They scramble trying to escape and find help for those who are wounded.

His fingers ache and sting in anger after he had to pull burning metal off of Ned’s hands.

“I got you, buddy!” Peter had yelled, over and over to himself, not sure who he was trying to convince.

“Please! Please help him!” Betty had screamed, tears flowing down her face as she held onto Ned, refusing to let go.

“It hurts! I can’t feel my hands!” Ned cried. His eyes pleaded to Peter. _Please help me, Spider-Man. Please help me, Peter._

When he finally got Ned free he grabbed him and Betty and swung them out of the carriage. They watched from the top of a building as it fell to pieces in a melting heap. Ned and Betty clung to each other, sobbing as they tried to bring each other as close as physically possible. Sick to their stomachs with the thought of losing each other after they had already lost so many. Peter watched silently before swinging down where he was now. He looked for Quentin anywhere.

“Mysterio!” he yelled.

The square had mostly cleared now and Molten Man was nowhere to be seen despite the fires still raging on.

“Mysterio!” he yelled again. Still nothing.

Until something.

The clang of metal was faint but distinct. It came from a dark alley out of the corner of his eye.

“Hello?” he called, “Does someone need help?”

He followed the noise, quietly, trying to understand. In the alley stood Mysterio, his glass helmet still smoking from after the fight, fidgeting with a remote. “Work dammit work!” he cursed as he slapped the remote. The moment he slapped the remote, a mighty roar thundered behind Peter in the square. He whipped around to see Molten Man had reanimated in the square already destroying the remnants of the last fight.

It took nanoseconds for Peter to realize what was happening.

“You- you did that?” Peter croaked. His throat still burning from the smoke.

Mysterio’s head snapped up as he saw him.

“You created the Elementals? You hurt all those people?” he asked.

“You don’t want any part of this,” Mysterio said before shooting Peter back with one of his green projections. Peter flew back into the square, his back hitting the tile floor, knocking the wind out of him. He had only a second to recover before Molten Man was raising his arm to strike him. He shot a web and pulled himself to the top of a light post.

“I’m sorry you had to see that Spider-Man!” Mysterio crowed.

“YOU HURT ALL THOSE PEOPLE! INNOCENT PEOPLE! WHY!” Peter shouted.

Molten Man charged at him again, striking the building behind him as Peter swung out of the way.

“I am just as good as any of you heroes! I worked my ass off for no recognition! Stark didn’t train me, Captain America didn’t chose me to be next- I had no one looking out for me! And now- with them gone I can be the next big hero! I can save lives!” Mysterio yelled, fending off the Molten Man with his projections. Using one hand he hit his remote and as if by magic the Molten Man dissolved into smoke. “You see? I raised the Elementals from the ground up. We fight and then I win. And sometimes people get hurt but I can save them if they gave me the chance!” Mysterio screamed, impassioned by his own delusions.

Anger stirred in Peter’s body like never before. Ben was dead, Tony was dead, and Ned almost died because he couldn’t do what had to be done. He hadn’t done enough. And now this man, his friend, was going to continue hurting people just because he felt like he wanted to be a hero. Because he thought he could be. Like the fires that raged before him, Peter burned inside. Adrenaline surged through his body as he let out a scream so primal he saw Mysterio shift back. He launched himself from his perch toward Mysterio.

His feet landed in the middle of Mysterio’s chest pushing them both into a building wall. The crater from the force shook the square as Peter peeled Mysterio’s limp body from the impact and threw him into the middle of the square.

Mysterio coughed harshly as Peter walked back to him, a looming figure of death dressed in all black.

“Spider-Man- _Peter_ , please,” Mysterio pleaded weakly, now terrified of the boy.

Peter silently webbed Mysterio's left hand to the ground.

“I’m your friend!” Mysterio reminded him.

Peter shot another web towards his right hand, pinning him to the ground.

“You don’t kill! That’s your code remember!” Mysterio cried.

Peter webbed his legs to the ground.

“I trusted you.” Peter said when he finally reached him, standing directly above his old friend. “I trusted you and you hurt me. You hurt my best friends. You ruined my vacation. You hurt hundreds of innocent people for what? Glory?” he spat at the grund, “You’re no hero, Beck. Heroes don’t hurt people.”

“Tony Stark was a war profiteer before he became Iron Man. Even your God hurt people.” Mysterio spat.

And like that- quick as lightning- Peter punched Mysterio’s fish bowl so hard it cracked.

Smoke poured out before revealing a bruised and crying Quentin Beck within the shards.

“Peter, no!” he cried as Peter began to rip apart the rest of the helmet, his hands bleeding. He began to punch into what was left of the bowl, striking Quentin’s face repeatedly. Peter could feel his gloves coming apart but he couldn't stop. He wouldn't stop.

“He was a good man!” Peter screamed, “He was a hero! He grew! He was a hero! He was my hero!”

Punch after punch sailed through, Mysterio’s face becoming more and more unrecognizable as he took each beating.

Peter’s anger fueled him to continue. How could he rest when the world wouldn’t let him? Would always threaten the ones he loved? Would always steal the ones he couldn’t save? All this time he just wanted to make Tony proud. Make Ben and May proud. But how could he when all he could do was fail? He couldn’t save Iron Man, he couldn’t save his uncle, he could barely save his best friend. How could he be relied on when he couldn’t get the job done. In the midst of his fury he took a moment to look at what he had done. Quentin’s eyes were swollen shut, his lips torn and bloody, and his nose was broken.

“You’re not a hero, Quentin Beck. You’re a monster.”

His face was a mosaic of purple and reds and Peter was about to make final touches as he raised his fist one last time.

“PETER!”

Peter looked up to see Michelle. His MJ. Standing in the square, her floral dress flowing against the wind. Tears dripping down her cheeks.

“MJ?” Peter questioned, not sure if this was another illusion. She raced forward before pulling him into her arms.

“Don’t do this.” she whispered in his ear.

He pulled back from her.

“I need to prove myself, MJ. He’s hurt people. I need to make sure he won’t again! He almost killed Ned!” he screamed. He could feel his fists curling, ready to strike again.

MJ nodded as she brought her hand to his face, cupping it gently.

“I know," she said weakly, her eyes watering, "I know that. But you’re not a killer.”

“But he is!”

“So don’t stoop to his level! You’re better than this.”

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt again.” Peter’s voice starts to crack. He was just a boy, holding the weight of the world.

“We won’t.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I know I can’t. Nobody can. But for tonight- we're gonna be okay. Fury is going to come and they are going to take him to where he needs to go, okay? And tonight we will all go back to the hotel and go home tomorrow and that will be just another day."

"What if something happens? What if something happens tomorrow too?"

"I can’t make any promises about tomorrow but I know that tonight we are going to be okay. Because of you.”

“It’s my fault. Everyone got hurt because of me.” Peter whispered, trying not to show how badly he is hurting. His skin is burning and his head is spinning and his chest is aching from holding in his sobs.

“No one knew what he was going to do. That’s no one’s fault. Even the Avengers got played before. We thought he was going to help us. No one knew."

"I thought you were dead." Peter says quietly.

MJ grabbed his hand and placed it against her face.

"I'm not dead? See? This is real. I am _real_. I am here with you right now to tell you you did it. You saved us. And now it's time to go home. Let's go home, Peter. I want to go home." her voice wavers on home and Peter understands why. 

After the snap, nothing has felt like home. Nothing has felt real. So much of what they have known as changed and so many things are different now. But when Peter looks into Michelle's eyes he finds what he remembers. He sees what is real. And he loves her.

"Just- can you walk away with me? Let’s walk away, okay? And we can call Fury and he can handle this.” MJ asks, her eyes glistening.

Peter looked at Mysterio, sputtering on his own blood, swollen like a circus balloon, before taking MJ’s hand.

"Okay." he answers, speaking so silently she could barely hear him.

Together they rose and walked away, calling in Fury and watching as Mysterio was carted away. Peter never let go of MJ's hand while they filled Fury in. Through his pain and through his grief, her hand was his anchor in the sea of his emotions. Her presence had pulled Peter out of the storm and had brought him back to who he should be. He clutched her hand tightly, hoping to capture the calming feeling she brought him in his memory forever.

That night MJ and Peter walked St. Peter’s bridge, alone for the first time, silently. Hands still linked together, Peter's blood sticking to their skin, they thought of what tomorrow could bring. They knew that tomorrow they might not be so lucky, but tonight they had lived and that’s all they can really hope for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Just what would be nice to see happen in far from home- hope you liked it !


End file.
